My Sort-of, Kind-of Hero (13 page)

I’m the first out, and I can’t see where Travis is. After a few steps I come to the large trampoline, sunk into the floor. I launch myself onto it in a tight ball and quickly fold out my body to be as straight as possible once I’ve bounced, reaching my hands high in the air to reach the handle for the zipline. This and the climbing wall is what everyone was getting stuck on today− especially the women. The handlebar for the zipline is pretty high, and the men seem to have the advantage due to their height.

I stretch my fingers as far as I can and I feel the handlebar. I have a terrible grip, with just my fingertips wrapping around the bar, but it must be enough because my weight causes the bar to release and I go zooming along the ten feet before I drop onto the soft inflatable material into an ungraceful heap at the end.

Next is the ball pit. I wriggle my body through the small opening, which I know will cause Travis trouble, then I fall face first into the balls. Quickly trying to put my feet underneath me, I feel a heavy weight on top of me and am knocked over.

“Sorry!” Travis yells, trying to find his own bearings. “That’s the tiniest opening in the world!”

“You’re on my foot!” I yell, and he quickly moves his foot off mine.

“Whose idea was it to fill this up to peoples’ shoulders?” he asks, finally righting himself and reaching out for me, my face still partially under. I keep getting balls under my feet and can’t balance.

“It’s more challenging,” I argue.

Actually, the setup technician said I should only put them up to my waist, but I was convinced it would be too easy.

“You go first,” he says, indicating the exit hole on the other side.

“This is a race,” I argue. “We are supposed to
race
to the exit.”

“If I hadn’t fell on you, you would have already been there,” he argues. “It’s only fair.”

“Since when are you worried about what’s fair?” I ask. I would put my hands on my hips for emphasis but I’m not even sure where my hips are at the moment.

Instead of waiting for his answer I turn around and wade as quickly as I can to the exit of the ball pit. Because the pit is sunken, I have to reach for the rope the surrounds the exit and try and pull myself up, which is basically impossible. I have to jump to try and reach the rope, but it’s out of reach and I can’t gain any footing. I keep reaching, thinking I can do it, but I just fall back into the balls every time and have to try and stand straight again.

I feel strong hands on either side of my waist and all of a sudden the ropes are in reach.

“I don’t need help!” I yell, though I do grasp the ropes, my legs flailing, trying to find a grip on something to push myself up.

“Well, I would like to get out of here sometime this year,” he argues. “Ahh! That’s my head.”

My foot finally made contact with something.

“Here.”

I feel two hands on my butt and with a swift push I am sailing head first through the opening.

I scramble to my feet and quickly cross the balancing beam, my small feet making quick work of it. I know Travis will have trouble with that. He has terrible balance and big feet.

I almost feel guilty because he helped me in the ball pit, but then I hear someone yelling his name, cheering him on− probably Tina− and my resolve returns.

After the balance beam is the climbing wall. It is set up similar to a rock climbing wall, but instead of rocks to climb there are small rope loops for your hands and feet.

I surprise myself with how good I am at this; I manage to scale it pretty quickly. It doesn’t matter though, because Travis is even better at it. He’s caught up, and finishes the wall first. I see his figure disappear over the top as I grab onto the last loop and push myself up and over.

The only thing left is the slide. I didn’t realise how steep it is until I get to the top, it looks smaller on the ground, but it is twenty five feet high and has a sharp drop.

Travis is sitting at the top of it; his legs dangling over, but he’s not moving.

My mind suddenly flashes back to sitting on a Ferris wheel when I was eleven, Scott sitting beside me. I looked over the edge, giggling as Scott rocked the seat though the operator had told him not to. Travis was standing right beside my mom on the ground, looking up at me with sheer terror on his face, like he was the one high in the air. I sat back in my seat properly and told Scott to stop rocking it.

I can’t see his face, only the rigidness of his back, but I instinctively know he’s desperately trying to hide the terror.

I walk over and sit down right next to him. Our legs and arms are touching.

“Travis?” I ask.

“It didn’t look so high from the ground,” he says in what I know he hopes sounds like a light hearted joke.

“No, it didn’t,” I agree.

Just ten feet from the bottom of the slide is the finish line.

It’s frighteningly peaceful up here. I can hear everyone, and see everyone, but somehow they seem detached; like there is a barrier between me and Travis and all of them.

“You’re finally going to win,” he says, offering me a crooked smile.

“I know,” I say, smiling back.

I think back to that eleven year old boy, and it takes everything in me to not brush Travis’s unruly hair back into order. Reaching behind his back, my right hand comes up to his hand and I squeeze gently.

“Just hold on to me,” I whisper in his ear.

I feel his arms wrap around my middle and I use my body to lean forward, propelling us down the slide before he changes his mind.

At the bottom, we roll because of our awkward position, me ending up on top of Travis, who is on his back. One of my hands is trapped behind his back.

He looks fazed for just a second as he looks up at the slide, but he quickly looks away and the look of worry fades.

“Thanks,” he says, and I can tell he doesn’t mean to offer it reluctantly, but at the same time he’s not comfortable with his weakness so exposed.

“Anytime,” I say.

“You could have won,” he points out.

I smile and lean forward so my chest is flat against his, my face only inches from his nose.

“I still plan to,” I say, winking.

I pull my hand out from under him and use his chest as leverage to throw myself off of him, scrambling to my feet as quickly as possible.

I see him roll over, trying to get to his feet, but I’m already there and I sprint to the finish line.

I look over my shoulder at him, my face a picture of sheer delight, as I finally cross the finish line and win.

Chapter Eleven

I bounce, up and down, and stare at a large patch mark by the entrance door of the bouncy castle. The men will be here any minute to take it down, and then the day will be over. I’ll have to say goodbye to my obstacle course.

I’m really going to miss it, you know, it was just so dependable. It arrived on time, provided all the fun it promised. It didn’t try and sneak out of the party early with some woman who scares at any loud noise after we had such a nice time racing.

I had my victory dance after my triumphant win but when I looked over at Travis, he was talking to
her
again.

During
my
victory dance.

Everyone has pretty much left now, and there are only a few things left to clean up, so I decided to come and have one last bounce.

I hear the zipper on the flap for the entrance before I see the door pushed aside.

The mop of black hair that pokes through causes me to falter bouncing slightly, but I manage to right myself before I topple over.

Travis crawls through the entry and then turns around to zip it back up from the inside. He tries to gracefully get to his feet while I am still bouncing, but the moving floor obviously makes it a little difficult and it takes him a minute to get his footing.

“I really feel inflatable objects and me just don’t mix,” he says, awkwardly bouncing beside me.

I don’t answer and bounce even higher.

“Alright, what is it?” he sighs.

I don’t reply.

“You’ve been weird with me all day and haven’t spoken to me since the race,” he says. “So what’s up?”

I snort, trying to contain the bitter laughter.
I’ve
been avoiding him
? He was the one avoiding me to begin with, and then he was so busy talking to Tina I’m surprised that he even noticed I hadn’t spoken to him.

“I thought I was supposed to be the one mad at you here,” he comments.

I whip my head around. “For what?” I ask.

“Umm, I don’t know. Maybe for going behind my back and ordering this monstrosity without even talking to me?”

I throw my head back and laugh at his audacity.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh nothing,” I stop laughing, the stern look back in place. “What are you even doing here anyways? Don’t you have a movie to see or something?”

Travis raises his eyebrow but doesn’t answer.

“You know, just answer me one question,” I say, and bend my knees to stop bouncing. “Why did you even agree to help me with my book? You obviously don’t want to do it, and now you’re going behind my back anyways, so why say yes?”

Travis bends his knees to stop bouncing too. “First of all, I am not going behind your back−”

“Oh, so I’m supposed to believe all that flirting Tina was doing just started today? And I guess she invites every guy she just meets to go to the movies!”

“She did just ask me out today!” Travis says.

“Look at me!” I say in self-loathing. “You realise what you’ve done, right? You’ve turned me into Emma Woodhouse!”

“First of all, I have no idea who that is,” he says. “And secondly, I haven’t done anything to you. You’ve gone to Crazyville in your own car.”

“Emma Woodhouse is one of Jane Austen’s heroines. She’s supposed to be in charge of matchmaking. That’s what she’s good at, but then no one listens to her and everything goes to pot!”

Well, that’s one interpretation of it. Another would be that she didn’t really know what she was talking about to begin with, but that particular theory doesn’t help my case right now.

“Call me crazy, but didn’t you
want
me to date someone?” Travis throws his arms up in exasperation, causing his shirt to pull across his chest. A chest which I feel I have been staring at way too much today.

And this is why the gym is a bad place. How can I think with all that… tight skin staring at me.

“Yes, but not
her
,” I say, crossing my arms across my chest.

“Why not?”

“Because… it’s… because, it’s hypocritical!” I finally manage to get out.

“What are you talking about?”

“You are being hypocritical,” I point my finger at his chest. “You haven’t returned my calls this week because you were mad that I rented this obstacle course without talking to you, and then you go and date the girl that sold it to me!”

“That doesn’t even make sense!” Travis puts his hands to his head in frustration.

“It makes perfect sense,” I argue. “And now you are trying to cover it up with secret dates.”

“I haven’t called you this week because Justin sawed through my phone at work, not because I am hiding some sort of scandalous affair from you.”

“You could have used your office line,” I point out.

He seems to weigh his words before answering.

“Alright, maybe I didn’t call because I was mad,” he concedes.

“Well, it doesn’t matter anyways,” I say shrugging. “Because I veto her.”

“You what?”

“I veto her,” I explain. “I don’t want Tina in the book. Veto.”

“You can’t
veto
her,” Travis says. “You don’t even get vetos!”

“Fine, this is one of my favours,” I reason. “Tina’s out.”

Travis narrows his eyes. “I veto your favour.”

“You can’t do that!”

“Well, I just did,” he shrugs.

I clench my jaw in frustration. “Fine! I favour your veto! She’s out again.”

“I−”

“You don’t have any vetos left,” I point out.

Travis is silent for a moment before he shakes his head.

“You realise what you are doing, right?”

I eye him warily. “What?”

“You’re sabotaging your own project, and then trying to blame me for it,” he says.

“I am not,” I argue.

“Then what’s wrong with Tina?” he asks.

I think about it for a moment before I lift my chin. “She’s too loose.”

The truth is, I have no idea why I don’t like Tina. She’s a nice enough lady and she did introduce me to the world of inflatables, but no matter how many excuses I tell people, I really have no reason not to like her. I actually
need
her if I have any hope of getting this book done. But even knowing all this, I stand by my veto.

Travis blinks a few times before he throws his head back in laughter. “What, are you from the eighteen hundreds?” he asks.

“No,” I say, defiantly. “I just think that Tina was a little too… forward.”

“How?” he snorts.

“Well, she was… you know…” I search for the words. “Enticing you.”

“
Enticing
me?”

“She was asking you to take her out, she kept touching your sweater,” I say.

“I forgot she touched my sweater,” Travis says, shaking his head. “When you put it like that, she sounds like a real harlot.”

I narrow my eyes. “I just don’t think she is right for you.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks, taking a step towards me. “And who is?”

“I−”

His step throws me off balance and I reach out my hand and grasp his arm to steady myself.

Travis is standing in front of me, staring, and waiting for my answer. His hair has fallen across his forehead a little, probably from all the bouncing, which makes me think mine must be a real mess. The bouncy castle isn’t very big. It’s really only meant for one adult to do their victory dance or a couple of small children. When Travis takes the step towards me there is barely a foot between us, and all of a sudden I feel how small the space really is.

Maybe it is all the bouncing, or maybe it’s because I have no idea how to answer his question, but my heart is suddenly racing and everything seems just a little bit fuzzy around the edges.